Casualties of War: The Advocate Trilgy

by Bill Mesce

  “I don’t.”

  “But you know Lieutenant Sisto, Sir?”

  “When I was the One–Oh–Three’s CO, I had the privilege of signing off on a recommendation from the lieutenant’s battalion commander – ”

  “That would have been Lieutenant Colonel Conrad Porter.”

  “At the time, yes. He’d recommended the lieutenant – he was a buck sergeant then, as I recall – for a Silver Star. I also recall he received a Purple Heart for the same action.”

  “As the 103rd’s CO, you would’ve been well–acquainted with Colonel Porter?”

  “Yes.”

  “A good officer?”

  A pause, a momentary purse of lips. Considering. “A competent officer.”

  For the first time, Harry looked up from his cards, a small smile on his lips as he looked at the general over the tops of his spectacles. “Now, see, Sir, I said ‘good,’ and you said, ‘competent.’ Did you have reservations about the major?”

  “Objection.” Courie was beginning to sound tired from having to so regularly rouse himself. “If he’d asked the general if he had reservations about Lieutenant Sisto, that would be relevant. What does the general’s feelings about Colonel Porter have to do with the case?”

  Harry turned to Ryan only this time there was nothing casual about him. It was not Harry’s métier to wave his hands and declaim his point with a flourish of courtroom histrionics, but his voice – reserved as it was – was hard and firm. “Colonel Ryan, from the moment Major Joyce accused Lieutenant Sisto at the scene, through the initial inquiry, to this date, it has been the lieutenant’s contention that he refused to obey Major Joyce’s order because it contravened the last order he’d been given by Colonel Porter.”

  “An order to which there are no witnesses,” Courie pointed out.

  “Which doesn’t mean it wasn’t given.”

  “Or that it was given!”

  “Fellas,” Ryan said, holding his hands up in a call for quiet, “I’m as big a fan of ping–pong as the next guy, but that’s enough.”

  Harry stepped closer to Ryan. “Defense should be able to introduce testimony from which the panel, as experienced Army officers, can deduce the likelihood that such an order could have been given. This means illustrating both the circumstances surrounding the event, as well as the competency and character of Colonel Porter.”

  “We don’t need to try a dead man,” Courie said caustically. “We have a live one and he’s the one named in the indictment.”

  Harry went on unperturbed. “By the same token, the prosecution is free to challenge that likelihood by introducing testimony substantiating the opposite point.”

  Ryan fondled his gavel thoughtfully. “So I understand: you each have an allegation crucial to your respective cases that you both admit neither of you can prove. The defense says the order was given. The prosecution says it wasn’t. Captain Courie, would you agree to a stipulation that Major Porter could have given such an order?”

  Courie had been shaking his head in the negative even before Ryan had finished speaking. “Not a chance, Sir.”

  “I didn’t think so. Because both the defense and prosecution cases turn on this point, and since you’re both equally unable to prove it as fact, I’m going to allow both of you latitude in this regard.”

  “I strongly object,” Courie said.

  “I thought you might,” Ryan replied. “Noted. Go ahead, Colonel Voss.”

  Terry had followed it all quite closely as he did not look appetized at having to answer the question. I had seen the same face on doctors and barristers asked to comment on the performance of their brother practitioners. I suppose it’s the secret fear of possibly having it done to themselves some day.

  “I will say this,” Terry began, “That there are all kinds of officers. A few are exceptional, a few are substandard. The majority have a…’tolerable’ mix of strengths and weaknesses. Colonel Porter seemed to have a good handle on his battalion. He was not an exceptional officer, but his regimental commander, Colonel Bright, never reported to me any occasion that would have had me consider relieving Colonel Porter.”

  Harry flipped to another card. “General, I get an impression that there was a kind of reorganization when the division shipped to England. That’s when you were promoted – that’s what you said, right? – and then Colonel Bright was moved up to take over the 103rd. Of the three battalion commanders in the regiment, why him?”

  The general smiled slyly. “I think what you’re asking is why not Porter?”

  Harry smiled guiltily. “Maybe.”

  “Let me put it this way. There are men who can handle a company with little problem, but give them a battalion and they’re lost. Not every regimental commander has what it takes to command a division. I believe that battalion command was the highest level of Colonel Porter’s competence.”

  I could see Harry weighing pressing the issue, but I saw his eyes flick ever–so–slightly toward Courie, and then a shake of the head to himself. “Let’s move on to the action in the Huertgen.”

  I could swear I heard a sigh of relief from Courie’s table.

  “General,” continued Harry, “you were not involved in any direct command role with the 103rd’s operations in the Huertgen, correct? As you indicated, this was General Cota’s show.”

  “Yes, that’s correct. When the regiment was attached to his division, it passed under his command.”

  “Were you party to any of the briefings or planning sessions or even private discussions with General Cota or any member of his staff regarding the 103rd’s operations?”

  “Quite a few. As a courtesy, and because he was aware I needed to know the status of the regiment with the idea of the eventual re–integration of my own division, General Cota kept me apprised at each step of the way. I was actually present at his headquarters in Rott before the One–Oh–Three arrived, and knew of his plans for the regiment then. I remained there through the date of the regiment’s extraction.”

  “This attack on Hill 399…Who planned the operation? The regiment? Colonel Porter’s battalion staff? General Cota’s staff?”

  “Tactical decisions devolved down to the lowest unit the closer one got to the front line. Regimental staff conferred on the movement from Rott into the field, and then as each battalion deployed they generally tended to themselves. But this was only in a tactical regard. The overall plan for the operation came from Corps.”

  “V Corps headquarters in Eupen.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did General Cota ever express an opinion of that operational plan to you?”

  “Objection!” Courie had grown peeved. “Colonel Ryan, he’s doing it again! Where are we going with this? Now he’s dragging V Corps into this!”

  Harry pushed his reading glasses a little way up his bulbous nose and produced a note card he wagged in the air. “Actually, the Judge Advocate dragged them into this.”

  It was comical, I must say, the way both Ryan and Courie seemed to shake their heads in puzzlement at the same time.

  “Excuse me?” Courie said without a trace of courtesy to it.

  “Yes, Colonel,” Ryan said, “you want to run that by me, too?”

  Harry turned to the card and quoted: “‘To truly appreciate the gravity of the lieutenant’s offense, you must understand that the orders to take this objective originated not with the command of the 103rd Regiment; not with General Norman Cota’s headquarters of the 28th Division to which the 103rd was attached. The order had come directly from Major General Leonard Gerow’s V Corps headquarters in Eupen. It was not just Major Joyce’s authority that was refused, but Lieutenant Sisto’s act was a de facto flaunting of the authority of each layer of command up to V Corps.’”

  For the first time, I saw that lovely, polished poise of Leonard Courie’s fall away. Obviously flustered, his jaw dropped. He hadn’t quite shaken off his daze when he turned to Ryan: “Sir, opening and closing statements are not testimony.”
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br />   “No,” said Harry, “but the prosecution flat–out told this jury that since the attack order came from Corps, the lieutenant’s disobedience was as much an act of disobedience against Corps as against Major Joyce. It may not be testimony, but it is the stated framework of the Judge Advocate’s case. He can’t announce to the jury, ‘This is the heart of my case,’ and then not allow the defense to challenge it.”

  Courie was certainly angry at having been checked so (and I have no doubt it particularly grated that it was his own words that had come back to haunt him). But I must also say that I thought I perceived a trace of admiration in his countenance. He held up his hands in surrender and re–seated himself as Ryan nodded at Harry to proceed.

  “General Cota was not happy with the plan for the attack on 399,” Terry recounted. “As he continued to receive instructions from Corps over the next few days he became increasingly unhappy.”

  “Sir, did he ever say where he felt Corps was falling short?”

  “He was quite plain – and colorful – ”, here a knowing grin from the President of the Court, Colonel Pietrowski, “in saying that he felt the planners at Corps had no idea at all of the specific conditions under which our men – and the division as a whole – were fighting under. He also made it clear to me that he’d felt similarly since before the One–Oh–Three had arrived; that this had been the state of affairs since his division had been committed.”

  “Did you concur with his…‘assessment’?”

  “I’m afraid I did.”

  “Thank you, General. No further questions.”

  Courie was quickly on his feet. “Colonel Ryan, re–direct?”

  “Proceed, Captain.”

  “General Terry, let’s try something shocking and actually get back to the point of this trial: Lieutenant Sisto. Along with his award of a Silver Star, are you aware that he had, during his time in Italy, been the subject of a summary court–martial proceeding? And convicted?”

  “I knew of it.”

  “On this particular action, when Major Joyce first pressed charges and the incident was referred up to divisional headquarters, did General Cota consult with you on the affair?”

  “As the One–Oh–Three was attached to his command, he didn’t have to. But, as a courtesy, he kept me informed.”

  “Did he discuss the result of the initial investigation with you, Sir?”

  “As I said, this was his show. It was not a discussion in the sense that I was invited to contribute, but he did make me aware of the investigation and findings.”

  “Based on those findings, did you have any reason to disagree with his decision to convene a court–martial?”

  “Objection,” said Harry. “He’s treating an indictment as if it’s an indication of guilt and he’s trying to give it substance by eliciting an opinion from the witness.”

  “I’m going to overrule, but –” and here he turned to the jury panel “ – I want to remind you gentleman that the simple fact of an indictment is not proof in any way of guilt. It only indicates that the assumption that the questions raised therein can only best be resolved at trial. General Terry, you may answer.”

  Terry looked at Sisto sadly, and his straight shoulders shifted in what I believed was a small sigh. “With the findings the general shared with me, I had no reason to disagree with his convening a court–martial.”

  There being nothing further, General Terry was dismissed. As he passed the defense table on his way to the chapel aisle, I saw him again glance in Sisto’s direction. The lieutenant shrugged as if to say, “I’m sorry, too, but what else could you do?”

  *

  In so far as appearance went, Colonel Henry Gareth Bright was the antithesis of General Terry. Where the general had worn his years lightly on his lithe, handsome form, Bright’s age – some ten years short of the Terry’s – weighed heavily…literally. Short, round, nearly bald but for a fringe of mousy–brown hair, he looked more a clerk than commander with his bland, bespectacled face. Where Terry’s voice was deep and authoritative, and the general spoke with a fluid erudition, Bright’s was a flat, New Englander’s drone, blunt, succinct, unadorned. But they were closer than their respective forms would suggest.

  Bright had been a middling student at West Point (Class of ‘29), and, in the peacetime Army, had presented himself – to borrow the general’s tactful phrasing – as nothing more than a “competent” and “unexceptional” officer. It would not be until the war years that his true colors came through. He had landed with the 37th Division at Salerno as an overaged company commander. By the time the Americans rolled into Rome he had earned command of a battalion and during the division’s reorganization in England he had been Terry’s handpicked successor to command the 103rd Regiment. Now, he sat in the witness chair slightly hunched over, his small eyes focused on Leonard Courie in unemotional study.

  After some prerequisite preliminary questions, Courie asked, “Sir, would you please explain to the court what your instructions were once you arrived at the divisional assembly area in Rott?”

  “General Terry was already there, said the regimental staff and battalion COs were all wanted at General Cota’s HQ. A briefing. General wanted one battalion at Rott, divisional reserve. Another – ”

  “Please show us on the map, Colonel?”

  Courie had set a large map of the battle area on an easel by the witness chair so both the jury and the prosecution and defense tables could have a clear view. Thankfully, the positioning also allowed the court’s only two spectators – myself and la comtesse – a look as well.

  Bright tapped a spot along the western side of the map with a knuckle. “Rott. General had elements of his 212th Regiment strung out along here holding Vossenack, Kommerscheidt, some were in a hard fight for Schmidt. He wanted a battalion to reinforce the 212th’s fight for Schmidt. The last battalion – ”, the knuckle rapped another spot near Schmidt, “ – was supposed to take Hill 399.”

  “You can sit down, Colonel, thank you. Sir, how did you determine which battalions were to take on which assignment?”

  Bright shrugged as if it didn’t seem worth discussing. “Second Battalion had the highest percentage of new men and officers, so they went into reserve. Overall, 3rd Battalion had the strongest officer cadre; lot of Italy vets. Figured them a good bet for the hill.”

  “Colonel, do you know Lieutenant Sisto?”

  “Yup.”

  “Isn’t it true that at one point in the Italian campaign, Lieutenant Sisto – then a sergeant, a squad leader – was convicted in a summary court–martial convened by his commanding officer?”

  “Yup.”

  “Do you recall the formal violation?”

  ‘“Formal?’ Not specifically.”

  Courie referred to his folder: “He was charged with violation of Article 96 of the Articles of War, which covers – and I quote – ‘…all disorders and neglects to the prejudice of good order and military discipline, all conduct of a nature to bring discredit upon the military service.’ Consequent to his conviction, he lost his stripes and was fined.”

  Another shrug. Unimpressed. “Knew about it. I was CO of another battalion at the time. Not really my business.”

  “Colonel, you passed along Major Joyce’s charge to General Cota? And were consulted on the initial inquiry?”

  “Yup. To both.”

  “You signed off on the captain’s charge?”

  “Based on what he told me, didn’t see how I couldn’t.”

  “You had no reason to disagree with him?”

  “Not based on what he told me.”

  “And when the formal inquiry recommended charges, you made no argument against them?”

  “No reason to.”

  “Thank you, Colonel. Your witness, Colonel Voss.”

  Harry sat back in his seat, studying – as per usual – not the witness but the note cards fanned out on the table before him, a finger meditatively tapping one of his front teeth. He seemed to hav
e reached some inner conclusion, scooped up his cards and rose.

  This time, Courie’s attention was not elsewhere. He leaned forward in his chair, rapt to Harry’s performance, his writing hand poised over his foolscap pad to note any point requiring a rejoinder.

  “Colonel, if you don’t mind, let’s work backwards here. Captain Courie likes to keep mentioning that nobody had a beef with the inquiry or Major Joyce’s charge. You said you had no reason to disagree with either. Is that the same thing as agreeing with them?”

  “Nope. Man makes a charge, I only know what he says, let’s go to trial and settle it.”

  “Well, there’s that American sense of fair play in action! Good for you, Colonel! Now let’s go back to that Article 96 business. It was a summary court–martial. For those of you on the jury panel new to the service, that indicates the degree of seriousness was not great. Article 96 is listed simply as ‘General Article’ and it’s normally applied against non–capital crimes not serious enough to warrant application of a specific article.”

  “I’m sure the younger officers on the panel appreciate learned counsel’s dissertation on the Articles of War,” remarked an acerbic Courie, “but does he have a question?”

  “Matter of fact, I do, Captain, thanks for reminding me. Colonel Bright, you couldn’t recall the charge. Do you recall the action that drew the charge?”

  For the first time, the flinty New Englander showed a sign of emotion; the barest flicker of an upward curl of his normally pursed lips. “That I do recall. Understand, that Italian countryside, nearly every one of those farmhouses had a stash of wine. Drank it like milk. Lieutenant Sisto and his squad… – ”, bless him, the dowdy thing was not only capable of a grin, but a flash of levity as wel, “ – I guess you could say they ‘liberated’ one of those stashes. With enthusiasm.”

  “They got drunk.”

  “As lords.”

  “The whole squad, Sir?”

  “Don’t recall any took the pledge.”

  “And the battalion was not in a rear area at the time, correct, Sir?”